


Just What the Doctor Ordered

by sentientcabbage



Category: Atlantis: The Lost Empire (2001)
Genre: Erectile Dysfunction, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Hand Job, Intercrural Sex, Joshua Sweet (mentioned), Loss of Virginity, M/M, Smut, Yes my head canon is Milo is a virgin and very awkward in bed, sexual angst!, sexually frustrated people in the early 20th century
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:26:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28256895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sentientcabbage/pseuds/sentientcabbage
Summary: Milo and Kida are having some certain problems and there is an unexpected solution provided to him from a guard. (I obviously do not own any of the copyrights to the characters)
Relationships: Milo Thatch/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 11





	Just What the Doctor Ordered

Milo had become comfortable with his new life in Atlantis. 

Life as the Queen Kida’s husband and the “expert in gibberish” wasn’t particularly demanding. He spent his days assisting in bringing new life to the written Atlantean language to the people of the city – he bristled at the idea only the royal family should know the written language and knew plenty of languages died with people not knowing how to read – and nights at Kida’s side.  
It was the nights that had become increasingly anxiety-inducing for him. Like any monarchy, there needed to be heirs to the throne. Deep at night under the light of a lantern filled with fire-flies, Kida would do everything possible to arouse his interest and one particular organ. He could appreciate how beautiful her naked body looked in the dim light, but everything they had tried couldn’t get him erect. She had consulted the doctors of Atlantis who had prescribed herbs and broths to assist them with not only making love, but to assist them with conceiving the next in line for the throne. 

“Maybe I need to talk to someone,” Milo told her one night. “You know, Hippocrates had the first ideas as to the roots of mental illnesses—”

“Mental illness?” Kida asked. 

“It’s when you’re sick, but in the…uh, head.”

Kida nodded. “So you’re sick.”

“I mean, not horribly. But some people, particularly Europeans, think that there’s a reason why people have mental illnesses and it can be treated. It’s more of a new thing in America, where I come from.”

“But if you’re sick, the medicine should have helped.”

“Well, but that was supposed to treat the symptom, not the actual problem.”

“Then I shall send for the doctor tomorrow!” Kida said, clasping her hands together. “He can treat this head illness of yours and you will be better.”

“Uh, sure,” Milo said, uneasily. Some of the doctor’s remedies had not sat well with his stomach and he hoped the guards and Kida hadn’t looked in various pots around the palace. 

The next day, Kida was out and around the city and Milo was told to stay there. The doctor arrived and did a general examination of Milo. 

“You seem to be fine,” he said. “Your temperature seems to be fine and your complexion is pale, but that is usual for you.”

“Look, Doc, I still can’t –” He paused and then mumbled, “You know…”

“Ah, your phallus is still not stiffening.” 

Milo sighed deeply and said, “Yes, that is exactly what is happening.” 

“What I told you would help has not assisted?”

“No. And it’s very frustrating to the queen.”

The doctor nodded, looking very concerned. “I apologize if appear to be prying into private affairs, but does Her Majesty not disrobe when attempting to conceive an heir?”

Milo tried to hide his guffaw at the doctor’s apology as he was being called to treat the king’s erectile dysfunction, which felt about as private as possible. “Her Majesty does disrobe, as do I.”

“Is there something displeasing about her body?”

“Oh, she is quite pleasing to the eye. It’s just that my…phallus, doesn’t seem to agree with my brain.”

Discussing sex was so taboo in the Thatch household, even with as wild of an explorer as his grandfather. That was typical though in society. Maybe men at university talked about prostitutes they visited, but discussing about issues like this was strictly forbidden. It had quite clearly left the young linguist, now sitting in a lost, sunken city with tattoos he never thought he would get wishing there was some Atlantean word for “penis” or “phallus” to alleviate his discomfort with this. 

“Tell me, your majesty, have you previously lain with someone?” the doctor asked. 

“No,” he said through gritted teeth, unhappy to admit to the doctor he was a virgin.

The doctor nodded before getting up off the stool he had been sitting on. “Please wait here,” the doctor said. “I will be right back.” 

Milo continued to sit on a cushion, concerned as to what the doctor would bring back. Was there some fish he would insert in an orifice to cure the problem? Milo shuddered, thinking he would rather consume some of the medicine previously prescribed than deal with that. This was a rare moment he missed his previous companions. Were it Sweet who was treating him, at least he would be relatively familiar with the methods, even if they caught him off-guard. 

The doctor arrived with one of the muscular guards who protected the royals. Milo kept looking at the two waiting for something to be explained. He finally gestured at the two and said, “I-I-I’m confused.”

“We believe it is natural for men to be with men before they are with women,” the doctor explained. “The doctors of the great city before me explained the male royals are encouraged to find a male suitor before marriage to know what it is like to be beloved by another and bestow that upon their queen.”

Milo was initially impressed by the oral tradition that led to this knowledge being passed down between generations to the doctor now treating him, but then he realized what the doctor was suggesting. Sex between two men was a theoretical concept. To have sex with another man would make him a degenerate, a sodomite. He would have lost everything in Washington D.C. had he ever engaged in that kind of behavior in the past. 

But this was not Washington or America. This was a city very much ahead of its time that disappeared during Greek antiquity when the behaviors described by the doctor were more accepted. Even as a linguist and a cartographer, Milo had seen the depictions of male love on Greecian Pottery, although he was more familiar with how the philosophers had discussed love and desire. Perhaps this was what he needed. He knew he loved Kida, but perhaps it was possible to love a woman and to consort with men. 

“I shall give you two privacy,” the doctor said before bowing and leaving the palace. 

After the doctor left, Milo got up and moved closer to the guard, who put down his weapon as the king approached. 

“Have you…have you done this before?” Milo asked. 

“Yes, your majesty,” the guard replied in a soothing deep bass tone. Milo was not sure if he had ever heard the guards talk. They seemed to mostly stand around, holding weapons, like the Beefeaters reportedly did in England. 

“Well, how does this begin?”

The guard put his hand on Milo’s shoulders and then slowly started tracing Milo’s tattoo with his finger. Milo wasn’t sure if he was supposed to trace the guard’s tattoos as well, mirroring it as if it were a dance. As he questioned this, the guard put his left hand under Milo’s chin, lifting it a bit to bring Milo’s eyes looking into his. The guard then leaned in and kissed the bespectacled linguist, running his hands through the hair of the toeheaded king. Milo felt himself growing warm in a way he had never felt before wanting to touch every inch of the guard’s skin, his hands wanting to move in ways they have never felt the need to in the past. 

The guard stopped and pulled away. “How was that, your majesty?”

“That was…incredible,” Milo said, breathlessly. 

“Is your majesty willing to proceed?”

“Oh yes.”

The guard untied a knot on his skirt, stripping down to the blue underwear that Milo still wasn't sure if it was a loin cloth or swimwear. He stood, touching himself, although Milo could already see the outline of the guard’s cock through his undergarment. The linguist kept looking on before realizing he needed too needed to strip down and hastily undid his garments, before both men were standing, looking at each other in their undergarments. In his head, Milo thought he needed to remove his own as he thought of images on Greek vases of a nude man being kissed by another man, the nude man having his genitals grabbed during the kiss. But he was still afraid of disrupting tradition. 

“Is your majesty still okay?” the guard asked.

“Y-y-yes,” Milo said, enthusiastically nodding, feeling himself start to stiffen the more he looked at the guard touching himself. He pointed to his own undergarments and asked, “Uhh, should I…?”  
“Yes.” 

Milo slid off the undergarment and was surprised he didn’t feel an urge to cover himself up. He could tell the guard was eyeing his scrawny, pale body and saw a grin grow on his face. 

“Turn around,” the guard said. 

Milo obliged, a little concerned as to what the next thing was, but he then felt the guard’s erection pressed against his back. The large hands of the guard started to move down Milo’s flat, hairless chest, fingers circling his nipples, which caused Milo to let out a soft moan. The hands continued to move down the chest, past his waist, and started to caress the inside of his thighs, prompting Milo to tilt his head as far back as possible as it was already up against the guard’s chest. He felt one hand wrap around his now extremely hard cock and begin to move back and forth. Milo closed his eyes and his breathing deepened. 

As the guard stroked him, there was something in Milo’s head that made him feel as though this was deeply unpersonal. His hands were at his side because he still wasn’t sure what to do with his own hands and wished the guard would give him some guidance. Milo decided to let out a disgruntled sound and the guard stopped.

“Is the king displeased with what I am doing?”

“No. Uh, no. Actually, it feels quite nice,” He turned around to face the guard. “I just thought it might be better if we could face each other.”

The guard walked over to a stool and slid off his undergarment before sitting down. His massive throbbing penis angled at Milo who gawked at it in amazement, concerned as to if it would be inserted into him. 

“Come. Sit.”

“Umm, am-am I supposed to sit on your lap?”

The guard nodded and Milo obliged. He felt miniscule compared to the large muscular man he was atop, which was the first time he felt particularly self-conscious since the guard had started pleasuring him. The guard took his hands and moved Milo’s slender legs to position in such a way to provide him with some balance, but also slide what little thigh muscle he had to wrap around the guard’s engorged penis. The guard started rocking his body back and forth, sliding the cock between Milo’s thighs. The guard let out a deep moan and began muttering some words in Atlantean that were beyond Milo’s comprehension of the language. 

The linguist grabbed the guard’s face and kissed him. He felt the guard’s lips part and he found himself kissing him repeatedly as the two men rocked together on the stool. As they did this, Milo moved his hand to his own penis and started to stroke it. There had been moments as a teenage boy when he would touch himself, but he largely tried to not indulge in this as he had heard multiple times as to how masturbation was a disease. He started moving to the same rhythm the guard was careening to, which was beginning to increase in speed. He felt himself on the verge of what felt like a rippling sensation in his loins, potentially risking to envelope him completely. He was afraid it would be seen as impolite if he finished before the guard – he remembered this vaguely from his youth and knew he was on the verge climax – and opened his eyes, trying to look around at the once magnificent structure to take his mind off the person he was atop. 

As Milo was trying to distract himself, the guard scrunched his eyes shut and clasped his hands around Milo’s ass before letting out a moan as the white jism sprayed onto Milo’s legs. The grabbing of the linguist’s tight ass caused his attempt to prolong the time before his orgasm to fail as he felt a warmth envelop his entire body, his head falling onto the guard’s shoulder as he cried, “Oh God.”  
The white liquid sprayed out of Milo, covering his lower torso in lines and drops as he continued to let his body crumple onto the guard, seeking his large frame for support. Milo felt himself be lifted up off the guard and placed on the cold stone, but he was too exhausted to open his eyes as he tried to catch his breath. 

“Did that satisfy the king?” the guard asked.

“Oh God. Yes, that did.” 

“I’m pleased.”

Milo opened his eyes and looked over at the guard who was slipping on his undergarment. “How was that experience for you?”

“The doctor informed me you have never successfully performed that act with someone, correct?”

“Uh, yes,” he said, sheepishly. 

“It was good for someone uninitiated with such an act,” the guard said as he finished wrapping and tying his skirt.

“Thanks,” he said, laughing.

The guard picked up his weapon and started to walk away from the still naked Milo, who sat up to address the guard. 

“You won’t tell the queen about this, right?” Milo asked.

The guard turned his head, grinning. “We are good at keeping the royal family’s secrets,” he said before continuing to walk away, returning to his post.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is my first fanfiction and I've been batting this around in my head for a bit. Some notes: anti-masturbation talk was particularly big at the end of the 19th Century and beginning of the 20th century; intercrural sex was particularly common in Ancient Greece and seemed most appropriate here.


End file.
